


The Memories I Make

by LittleRedRoamingWolf (ADayDreamingDream)



Series: And I've moved further than I thought I could (But I missed you more than I thought I would) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Branding, Caring Peter Hale, Insomniac Stiles Stilinski, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Monks, Mute Stiles Stilinski, One Shot Collection, Post-Nogitsune, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prequel, Shapeshifter Stiles Stilinski, Tibetan Monastary, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 19:54:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17884142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADayDreamingDream/pseuds/LittleRedRoamingWolf
Summary: The oneshots that I wrote to accompany 'Time Pressure and Time (Are All It Takes to Blow the Mine)'





	1. We Could Be Runaways, Running From

Stiles knew he would regret leaving one day. But that was one day in the far future where he was older and wiser. That day was not today. Or, well, tonight. He could feel the darkness under his skin, the itch of it fighting with the light. Sometimes the pain was sharp, like a knife tearing him to ribbons and other times it was just an itch. Like tonight. Stiles hoisted the duffel bag over his shoulder and glanced around his room again. The woman who was going to help him disappear was waiting outside with a prison van. Stiles felt like that mode of transport seemed rather fitting. He had killed Allison, may not have driven the blade through her but he had been in control. It had felt good, right even, and that was probably what frightened him most. That even two months after the Nogitsune’s defeat that killing Allison Argent still felt like the right thing for him to have done. Glancing into his father’s bedroom once more he watched his father snore away, sprawled across his bed. Stiles had slipped him a sleeping potion with his nightly bottle of Jack. Stiles had caused that as well, his father had been doing better until Stiles had become a murderer. Making his way downstairs, Stiles grabbed the note that he had wrote for his father and crumpled it up in his fist. Originally, he had thought leaving a note would make things easier but now he thought it was too much like a suicide note. Stiles didn’t plan on coming back to this town. Didn’t plan on ever seeing anyone from this place again and in doing so he would protect them from the greatest threat. Himself. He was a ticking time bomb, not in control of the chaotic energies that were consuming him in their fight to be his main source of magic. Stiles slipped out of the house, making sure to lock the door behind himself. Braeden was waiting for him, leaning against the side of the van.

“You’re in the back. We’ve got a long ride to San Fran so get comfortable and try to sleep. We’ve got an even longer flight after that.” She said in a bored tone. Stiles nodded and tossed his bag into the back

“Fair warning, if I fall asleep I could possibly turn the entire van into sand so…” Stiles said and Braeden raised an eyebrow

“In that case. Don’t go to sleep.” She said before turning and heading to the driver’s seat. Stiles climbed in the back and shut the doors. As the van rumbled out of town he wondered if Derek would even notice he was gone.

 

Across town Derek was staring at the stars from a clearing in the Preserve. It was one of the few peaceful nights he had had in a long time. He knew he should go check on Stiles. His mate hadn’t been sleeping lately unless Derek was in bed with him and even then, he was plagued with terrible night terrors. He would check on the younger man in a couple of minutes, maybe even pull him out of his window and onto the roof to show him how beautiful the stars were tonight. Stiles deserved something beautiful, Stiles deserved to be happy even. Derek would make sure to keep his mate safe this time. He wouldn’t let Stiles go through any trauma like the Nogitsune again. Derek would bear any burden for his mate.

 

In the hospital Lydia woke up screaming Stiles’ name.


	2. I Was Dying to Change from a Spark to a Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He reached out for Peter and the older man let out a huff. It didn’t stop Peter from climbing into the bed and allowing Stiles to curl into him. Stiles clung to Peter until he fell asleep, nose pressed into Peter’s neck breathing in the scent of pack, safety and home.
> 
> WARNING: Mentions of disturbing shit. It's not exactly graphic if you don't really think about it.

Stiles woke to the murmur of voices. He wasn’t sure where he was because Conner never had guests over. He slowly opened his eyes to see that he was alone in the room. There was a doorway in the far corner but Stiles couldn’t see past the rug that was serving as a door. He wasn’t chained up either and when he called on his magic it responded weakly. Gingerly, he sat up and there was no pain. Looking down at his body Stiles saw that the bruises that Conner had left on his body yesterday were nearly gone, barely a yellow tint on his pale skin. Panic welled up in Stiles as he realized that it hadn’t been yesterday that he had been with Conner. That there was no way that his extensive wounds would have healed in less than twenty-four hours. The voices stopped and two people rushed into the room. Stiles recognized them both. Braeden was a sight for sore eyes. Peter Hale was a surprise.

“Are you okay Stiles?” Braeden asked and Stiles nodded. He didn’t trust his voice to work despite knowing that it was probably fully healed.

“You’ve been asleep for two weeks. We employed the help of a witch to healing the worst of your wounds and then have been using a combination of pulling your pain and a bruise paste to get rid of the lingering bruises.” Peter said and Stiles nodded again. He reached out for Peter and the older man let out a huff. It didn’t stop Peter from climbing into the bed and allowing Stiles to curl into him. Stiles clung to Peter until he fell asleep, nose pressed into Peter’s neck breathing in the scent of pack, safety and home. Stiles may have been broken by Conner but he would make something new out of the broken pieces. He had to, if he didn’t the world would burn and he would be helpless to stop it.

 

Stiles could feel the connection to Conner. Feel the thing tethered to his myrkr pulling him in whatever direction Conner was in. Sometimes the connection felt like a live wire, wrapped around his chest and on those days he stayed close to Peter, constantly touching the other man to remind himself that Peter was there. Peter pretended like it annoyed him but Stiles knew it didn’t. He had learned that the ritual Conner had used was an old Russian blood ritual that required the blood of five virgins who had not yet reached puberty, the heart of a man who felt no remorse, despair of one who had lost everything, and the soul of someone who could not love. All dark and twisted things. It also couldn’t be broken. Stiles now was looking for a way to remove his myrkr without killing himself and every one around him. Once his myrkr wasn’t in his body the connection wouldn’t affect him as much and he could take more time to figure out a solution to the problem.

“Stiles, you need to eat.” Peter called from the outer room. Stiles glanced up from his book, listening to Peter set the table before carefully marking his place and shutting the book. It was an old grimoire written in Vietnamese, a language that Stiles was still perfecting his understanding of. Silently, Stiles padded out of the shared bedroom of their cottage in Scotland. The food should have smelt devine, Stiles hadn’t eaten in close to four days now, but instead it just made his stomach turn. Peter seemed to understand though, only giving him a small bit

“Eat that and then go hunt. I think I saw a herd of deer in the woods the other day. Just try to stay in the British Isles this time.” Peter said as they sat down. Stiles nodded and nibbled on the Shepard’s Pie that Peter had made. The sheep that was used in it was on the rawer side of cooked which made it easier for Stiles to eat. Once he had eaten all that he could he stood and cleaned his plate, putting it in the drainer to dry.

“Stay safe Stiles.” Peter called as he headed out of the cottage. There were indeed deer in the woods nearby so Stiles shifted and went on the hunt. He was careful not to kill one of the females that were still able to bear young, instead taking down an older buck that had already passed through the prime of its life. Stiles tore into it, eating everything but the antlers including the bones. Once he was done with his meal he carried the antlers back to the cabin and shifted back into human form. The antlers could be used for various potions, spells, and rituals once they were broken down, something Stiles had plenty of time to do. Stiles dropped them off in his workshop, a shed behind the cottage, and headed inside where he knew Peter would no doubt be reading a book with a glass of scotch

“I think you gained another tail.” Peter said when he entered, setting his book aside. Stiles nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Go take a shower and get dressed, you’re still bloody.” Peter said, waving his hand in the air as if there was a bad smell. Stiles grinned but did as he was told. Once in sweatpants and a large tee-shirt he climbed into Peter’s lap and let his mind go over all the information he had learned today. He was taking several classes online at the moment, studying both mathematics and chemistry at the same time at the doctorates level. His professors thought he was mad but he was top of his class in both subjects so they let it go. The degrees didn’t really mean anything to him, just something that he used to take breaks from all the magical shit that he read. It was late when Peter pushed him up

“Time for me to go to bed Stiles. Are you going to try and sleep tonight?” Peter said standing and stretching. Stiles cocked his head before shaking it. Peter nodded but didn’t push. Once Peter had gone into the bedroom Stiles headed out to his workshop to work through the night on different spell components, potions, and pastes that he would then ship out across the world to customers. Business was growing rapidly, Stiles was known for having the best quality work in everything he did and reasonable prices. He was also known for killing those that tried to cheat him of his payment because he didn’t ask for money. He asked for things like magical objects, spell books and even copies of memories of supernatural encounters. Stiles Stilinski was becoming something of a prominent figure in the supernatural world, only it wasn’t the name Stiles Stilinski that made people tremble and glance over their shoulders in fear and paranoia. It was the name Vulpe.


	3. One Hundred Steps Off the End of the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re looks frighten you.” Monk Gyatso said coming to sit beside Stiles  
> “I had a lover back in California. His name was Derek and I was just wondering if he would even recognize me anymore.” Stiles said softly. Gyatso made a noise that Stiles assumed meant he was thinking. It was a thing all the monks did here  
> “Your lover, he was a werewolf, correct?” Gyatso said and Stiles nodded, “He would be able to smell that you are his Stiles even if you don’t look the same would he not?”

Stiles sat in the small courtyard of the monastery. It was a quiet place, a place full of supernatural learning. Stiles didn’t fit in. He was too chaotic, his magic unpredictable and dangerous to the point that he had nearly killed the head monk and two others who had been trying to help him.

“You are leaving.” Monk Gyatso’s voice wasn’t accusing. Stiles shrugged and continued to stare at his reflection in the puddles that had been left by the storms the night before. His skin was already so pale and his eyes had gone from brown to green that was paling rapidly

“You’re looks frighten you.” Monk Gyatso said coming to sit beside Stiles

“I had a lover back in California. His name was Derek and I was just wondering if he would even recognize me anymore.” Stiles said softly. Gyatso made a noise that Stiles assumed meant he was thinking. It was a thing all the monks did here

“Your lover, he was a werewolf, correct?” Gyatso said and Stiles nodded, “He would be able to smell that you are his Stiles even if you don’t look the same would he not?” Gyatso said and Stiles let out a depreciating chuckle

“Derek’s been burned to many times to fully rely on just one sense. He lost everyone because he trusted the wrong person.” Stiles said bitterly

“I see. You do not fear that you will look different. You fear that he will not believe you are you because he has been hurt in the past by someone who wears your face.” Gyatso said wisely. Stiles let out an almost deranged laugh

“Got it in one. I was controlled by a Nogitsune. It’s what gave me these darker powers. Made me a monster and a killer.” Stiles said and he felt the familiar prickle of tears in his eyes.

“I know many things and have seen many people both supernatural and mundane come through this monastery looking for something. You, Stiles Stilinski, do not need to look outward for healing. To control both the light and the dark you need to look inward. To find balance, you need to forgive yourself.” Gyatso said and Stiles sighed

“I know. I just can’t.” He said sounding broken. Gyatso must have taken pity on him

“Come, there is something we can do for you before you leave. To keep you from having another incident like you did with the teenager and his sister in Chicago.” Gyatso said standing. Stiles stood as well and followed the old monk into the building towards the dungeon. He followed the monk into a room where there were three other monks waiting with Braeden.

“We will burn a mark of balance into your skin. It will not last forever, your body will slowly heal the burn over the course of ten years and you will have had to have found your own balance by then or return to have it rebranded.” Gyatso said motioning towards the firepit in the center of the room where there was a red hot brand waiting. Stiles swallowed thickly before nodding

“What do I need to do?”


End file.
